Little Boy Don't Grow Up Too Fast
by justanoutlawproductions
Summary: A super family fic. Peter Stark-Rogers is 14 years old and is trying to find his way as a teenager. If only his dads would stop treating him like a little kid. A family vacation will bring out both sides of the story. Rated T for language and mentions of "fondue".


This is my first Superfamily fic. In it, Peter is 14, not yet Spiderman. Tony and Steve take him on vacation and start to realize their little boy is growing up. There will be challenges for the whole family, teen angst, Gwen Stacey, Wade, embarrassing dads and more. I'm trying to keep both Tony and Steve in character. However, Tony may seem a bit off sometimes when it comes to Peter and hopefully it makes sense as to why, since he still sees him as a kid. Rated T for future "fondue" references and some bad language. I don't know how many chapters it'll be. No more than 5, probably. I have a basic plan but if you have anything you'd like to see, let me know in the review section.

 **Chapter One**

Peter hopped off the elevator and could instantly see his dad shouting instructions into JARVIS. The young boy rolled his eyes. He and his family were heading on vacation the following morning and he knew his dad was nervous about Stark Tower being destroyed in his absence.

"Hey Dad," Peter said. Tony couldn't hear him. The 14 year old chuckled and headed into his room to find Steve packing his clothes. "Pops. What are you doing?"

"Packing," Steve replied matter-of-fact.

"My stuff." He threw his backpack down. "I can pack my own suitcase."

"You'll just forget something."

Peter scoffed. He hadn't brought it up, but his dads had been working his nerves. He was 14 years old and they still treated him like he was a little kid. Everything was "too dangerous" or Peter was "too young". It included staying home alone, staying out after dark, almost anything a kid his age could do. He wondered if they used "too" so much because they thought he was two. In a way, he understood. His dads were superheroes. They saw the evil in the world. But they should also be smart enough to know he could take care of himself.

Steve threw Peter's plush Iron Man and Captain America into his suitcase. Peter made a face as Pops kissed his head and walked out. The teenager removed the plushies and threw them across the room. He would be 15 by the end of the summer. He didn't need those stupid things anymore.

Peter had came to Tony and Steve when he was 18 months old. His birth parents had died shortly after he was born and he was raised with his aunt and uncle after that until they were killed shortly after his first birthday. He entered the foster system until Tony and Steve adopted him. He had a great childhood with them. They spoiled him rotten, not just with material possessions, but with love. Always hugging and kissing him, letting him sleep in their bed whenever he wanted, carried him everywhere even well after he was walking fine on his own. Neither of them had the ideal childhood, so they did their best to overcompensate. It was fine when Peter was a kid. He loved all the attention.

But he'd be starting his sophomore year come the fall. He had a great best friend, who was an upcoming senior and a crush on a pretty girl. Not that his dads knew about either. They would flip their shit about Wade and the things he'd like to do. As for Gwen, he was sure they'd tell him that he was too young to like girls.

His cell phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. He answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey Pete. Great news."

'Wade. What's up?"

"I'll be in Tampa, the same time as you."

"Sweet."

"Any chance you could sneak out a few nights? There will be some cool parties."

"Of course."

It would be a challenge but a worthwhile one. Surely his dads would sneak off to "fondue"…he didn't want to think about it.

* * *

Tony walked into Peters room early the next morning. His son was fast asleep in bed. He walked over and slowly shook him

"Come on Pete," he said. 'The jet leaves in an hour."

The teenager crawled out of bed, mumbling, his hair a total mess as he walked into the bathroom. Tony flicked on the lights and saw Peter's plushies on the floor. He cocked a brow and picked them up, going back into his and Steve's room. Steve was going over a final check list.

"Hey, look what I found in Peter's room," he held them up.

"They must have fallen out of his suitcase," Steve replied.

"Or he took them out."

"He loves his plushies. He still can't sleep without them."

"Yes, that's why they were abandoned by his hamper."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You're reading too much into it." He grabbed the plushies and threw them into his carry on. "Is he up?"

"Getting ready now. Probably shaking off the morning wood."

"Tony," Steve said, aghast. "That's our little boy."

"It was a joke, Cap. Chill."

Steve just shoved some bags at his husband. "Take these."

"No please. Such a great example for Peter."

Steve rolled his eyes and kissed his lips. "Please, thank you, now go."

Tony chuckled and walked out to the kitchen where the bags were piled up. They'd be gone a week, but you'd think they were going for a year. Steve packed like a girl. Every scenario he could think of, he packed. But he didn't just do it for himself, he did it for the whole family. Tony was sure if he checked on bag, there'd be snow gear, despite it being June…and they were going to Florida. You would think a veteran would know how to pack essentials only.

After a while Steve came out, Peter following close behind him with wet hair.

"Ready to go," Steve asked his son, putting an arm around him.

"Yeah." Peter mumbled, not ready for their peppy attitudes. He was not a morning person.

"Let's get going," Tony said, grabbing the bags.

After a quick ride to the airport, Peter felt Steve putting a sweatshirt on him, zipping it up.

"Pop," Peter whined.

"It's chilly," the blonde replied. He was right, not that unusual for an early summer morning, but Peter still glared at his dad's turned back. He could put on his own damn sweatshirt. "Come on." He lead him out as Tony gave the luggage to an attendant.

They would be taking a private jet which Peter was grateful for. It was a short ride but he could sleep, with no crying babies or smelly business man. Tony led him onto the jet and he plopped down in a seat, shutting his eyes. Before he fell into a deep slumber, he could feel Tony putting on the seatbelt he had forgotten about.

Tony and Steve stayed awake the whole flight. They drank coffee and chatted, while keeping an eye on their little boy. Their flight was relatively smooth and Peter slept through it. He only awoke during the landing.

"Hey sleepy head," Tony said from his seat. "Nice nap?"

Peter nodded and noticed he had a blanket draped around him. He nudged it off and took off the sweatshirt, stretching his arms as he did. "We're in Florida?"

"No. We crash landed," Tony replied sarcastically. "We're on Gilligan's Island. Pops is off arguing with the professor."

Peter rolled his eyes but also smirked a little at his dad's sarcasm.

They got off the plane and had a car waiting for them. It was a short drive to their beach house. The car parked across the street since there was no driveway, behind the house was nothing but beach. The second Peter got out, he felt Tony's hand slide into his.

"Dad!"

"Busy street, hold Daddy's hand."

Peter rolled his eyes and blushes as they walked across the street, Steve followed with the driver and the bags. Once they made it inside, Peter pulled away from his father and headed up the stairs to his room. He had been there before, he knew where it was. He dropped his backpack onto his bed and looked out eh window. Next door he saw a blonde walking out of her house and onto the beach.

It was Gwen. The girl he had been crushing on since the beginning of the year.

"What the hell is she doing here?" He mumbled.

Steve walked in. "Not much has changed," I see.

"Yeah," Peter replied, keeping his eyes out the window.

"You can relax for a bit, we'll go to the beach later. I just wanted to give you these."

Peter turned around to see his dad holding the plushies he left behind. The hell?

"They must have fallen out of your suitcase. Dad gave them to me to hold onto." He set them on his son's bed. "I know you can't sleep without them." He kissed his son's cheek before walking out.

 **Please don't forget to review!**


End file.
